HG One-Shot Writing Prompts
by Valsays
Summary: A collection of inspired one-shots featuring H/G. May be updated a couple times a month.
1. Chapter 1

Harry was under water. As he turned this way and that to get his bearings, it seemed to him that a song had finished playing just before he realized he was under water. He tried to recall the song; it had such a familiar tune like he'd heard it before, but only once or twice. And whatever it was, it was gone now, and less important besides because he was _under water._

He knew where he was now. It was the lake at Hogwarts. He'd been here before, he remembered unpleasantly. It had been icy then, and it wasn't now. It wasn't warm, or cold, or anything in particular that he could tell. He was going to have to breathe soon, though, and the surface of the lake was too far away to reach judging by the sun filtering down through the murky water. Where was his wand?

His lungs began to panic, his chest and throat burning and heaving with the desire to breathe, and he searched his pockets for the gillyweed Dobby had slipped him before the tournament. Alas, his pockets were empty and that's when his brain finally, sluggishly, began to panic. He clapped one hand over his mouth and pinched his nose as his body tried to betray him by breathing on its own while his other hand raked the sludgy lake bed for something, anything, that could help him.

Nothing.

The last few bubbles of life escaped him as he prepared to face death once more. His lungs desperately filled themselves with water, betraying him one last time. And then...

Nothing.

He could just simply breathe. Perplexed, he inhaled again experimentally and found he was fine. It felt like breathing air, in fact, despite the very clear fact he was floating at the bottom of the lake. Bits of a song floated to him and then he knew he'd heard those words before, just once, though this time they struck more icy fear into his heart than before.

"_...your time's half gone, so tarry not_

_Lest what you seek stays here to rot..."_

Ron. He had to find Ron. He swam effortlessly like flying through the water, the rock-strewn mud churning beneath him. When the grindylows popped up where he expected, his wand was in his hand to repel them. They were as nasty as he remembered and as they slinked back into the lakeweeds he fervently wished to not have to meet the yellow-eyed, broken-toothed merpeople again.

_We've taken what you'll sorely miss_

He swam faster and found the rock painted with merpeople on it brandishing spears against the giant squid. He knew he was close and closed his eyes to steel himself as he approached the merpeople village.

A lilting laugh floated through the water toward him. He opened his eyes and was startled to see a group of silver-tailed mermaids, each resembling the painting in the Prefect's Bath. Confused, he hardly gave himself a minute to properly appreciate their slender forms lounging in pillowed clam shells and swirling about in the golden rays of sun that filtered to the bottom of the lake. He saw blonde hair, green hair, brown hair in all shades before he finally saw red. But where he expected to see Ron again, floating unconsciously, he saw Ginny shyly flashing him a smile.

"Ginny!" he gasped in surprise, and she giggled a little self-consciously as she tucked behind her ear a water lily one of the mermaids handed her. All previous thoughts and sense of purpose fled Harry as he saw her sitting there, legs tucked under her and small shells cupping her breasts. She was practically naked.

"Hi, Harry," she said as he swam to her.

"Ginny, what are you doing here?" he blurted out unromantically.

"Does it matter?" Her grin suddenly awakened a part of him that he'd completely forgotten about until now. "We finally have a private moment together," she said. "No brothers... no friends..."

Harry looked around and saw it was true; the mermaids had vanished, leaving behind a large clam shell filled with a soft-looking cushion like a bed. They were sitting on it, in fact. Ginny was still smiling, her long red hair undulating as if it had a mind of its own. She was so beautiful.

Harry realized he was probably staring and thought he should say something. "Ginny," he began. She arched one eyebrow and her grin turned just a bit _wicked,_ and his cock hardened painfully so he had to shift to give it more room. "You're so beautiful," he continued lamely. She leaned toward him and he used the water lily as an excuse to get himself closer to her. He touched the soft petals of the flower and then let his fingers trail down the side of her face. Her skin was even softer and the way her eyes fluttered closed just for a second at his touch intensified his feelings for her. They were sitting, face to face, forehead to forehead, and he kissed her. As soon as he'd done it he realized he probably should have asked, but her lips willingly answered his and her hand reached up to press gently against the back of his neck.

His tongue slid against hers as his hands roamed over the silky skin of her back. When he finally pulled away to adjust himself once again, it really was aching for some attention, he realized that one rosy pink nipple had slipped out of the top of its shell cover.

"You can touch it," she said softly, "if you want."

Harry _did_ want, more than anything right now. He placed his hand on her shoulder and let his palm slide slowly down her arm, getting used to the intimate feeling of touching her in ways that were still new to them both. When he reached the end, he brought his hand to rest on her naked hip, flushing with excitement as he caught a glimpse of red all the way down _there. _He gave the soft skin a slight squeeze and then slid his hand up her side until it was parallel with her breast before allowing the pad of his thumb to run over the hardened pebble of her nipple. She gave a little sound of pleasure at the sensation and it was all he could do not to spill over with excitement.

He kissed her again, while also playing with her nipple with his fingers, experimentally touching and once, pinched it very very lightly. She was beginning to squirm beside him. He bent his head to get closer to her nipple. He wanted to see what it felt like, on his tongue, in his mouth.

"Harry," Ginny breathed in his ear. "It's time."

"It _is?"_ he asked, feeling both shocked and confused. He'd barely begun to explore her body. They'd never even talked about-

"It's time to get up, Harry," Ginny said in Ron's voice.

"I don't-" _understand_ was what he was going to say, but he was terribly afraid that he did, in fact, understand.

"We're going to be late for practice!" Ron said exasperatedly, like he'd been trying to wake Harry for a while longer than normal. "If you don't get up right now, I'm leaving you," he threatened, and disappeared from view as he went back to his part of the room to presumably finish getting ready.

Harry glanced down at his erection tenting the bedclothes and fervently hoped Ron hadn't noticed. He was also extremely thankful Ron had no skills in Legilimency after that particular dream. This erection was going nowhere, he realized. He wondered for a moment if there was a charm to make it go down, but realized he couldn't exactly ask Hermione for help researching this problem.

"I've got to take a shower!" Harry called out to Ron as he gathered clean practice clothes and ran off toward the baths. "Go on without me, I'll only be a minute!"

"Mental..." Ron muttered at his back, shaking his head back and forth.


	2. Ginny's Dream

Ginny sat back on her broom, drifting over the quidditch pitch in an idle fashion as she watched her teammates play below her. Despite the fact she was quite good at riding a broom and was equally comfortable at playing the game, she felt the beginnings of butterflies fluttering in her stomach. The Gryffindor team had separated into two mock teams for practice, and she was playing seeker for her team opposite Harry Potter, and just looking at him made her stomach launch a thousand butterflies inside. Talking to him made her lightheaded and giggly, despite the fact she was constantly telling herself to _just play it cool. _

_It's just Harry Potter, your brother's best mate. _

_It's just Harry Potter, with the green eyes she'd love to get lost in right before he- _She felt a warm flush spread through her body from her center outward at the thought.

_No! _She turned her head just in case he was looking in her direction so he wouldn't see her cheeks redden as she desperately tried to shut that line of thought down.

_Just... just look for the snitch. _

She listened to herself, focusing her attention on the movements of her teammates below and looking away from the mess of black hair floating into her field of vision on her left side. He was far enough away that she didn't have to talk to him, thank Merlin, but she'd have to look in his direction eventually. She went over fifty variations of casual looks and chat because what if he did get close enough to talk? She was agonizingly aware of how she was sitting, and trying her best not to stare at him while he wasn't looking in her direction.

She kept him in her peripheral until his head was turned and then she looked to her left side. As soon as she did, his head turned back and his green eyes focused on her. He gave her a little half smile and she thought she'd fall straight off her broom. She knew she was staring and she knew she should look somewhere, _anywhere, _else. Then, his eyes that had caught hers suddenly became unfocused though he was still looking in her direction. That's when she saw it, glittering gold as it hovered between them: the snitch.

Her eyes flicked back to his and she knew she'd already given herself away; he knew she'd spotted the snitch too. They lunged forward at the same time, the snitch darting up and away as if it could sense their intent, and both fortunately swerved in opposite directions to avoid a midair collision. She caught a whiff of the unfamiliar scent of the muggle laundry detergent his clothes had been laundered in during his summer at the Dursleys and underneath, the smells she always associated with Harry that she couldn't describe just yet.

She whirled the broom back around as quickly as she could, only to see Harry already darting toward the snitch. Knowing she couldn't beat him to it, she guessed which way the snitch might flit when Harry made a grab for it and zoomed toward it. Harry's eyes grew wide as noticed her streaking through the air toward him. To his credit, he didn't move or even flinch as she pulled up at the last split second, following the snitch as it floated up and then fluttered back the way it had come, forcing Ginny into a loop-de-loop that drew some audible gasps from the players below them.

The cheering gave her a sudden rush of pride that brought out her competitive edge. Some girls may have let the object of their crush win, but Ginny enjoyed the feeling of proving herself. Of being good at something. Maybe even better.

She knew Harry was close behind her. Her team was behind in goals but the game had halted as the players paused to watch the fight for the snitch, which would end the game. The wind whipped at her and a sudden cross current tore the tie holding her hair back. She could feel her hair loose and streaming behind her and cursed at the knots that were surely taking hold that she would have to brush out later.

The snitch pivoted sharply to her right and Ginny fought to make a tight corner. To her frustration, Harry was able to turn before her, effectively cutting her off as he followed the snitch, which was now zigging and zagging neurotically across the space above the pitch. He made a grab for it but Ginny didn't slow her speed. He wasn't able to get his hand around the snitch, instead knocking it off its course and sending it into wide spirals in yet another direction. Ginny was thankful her stomach could handle the maneuvers she had to employ to remain neck and neck with Harry.

She was plotting out a plan to capture the snitch when Harry lunged for it again and sent himself spinning out of control. _Ha!_ she thought triumphantly as the snitch drifted within her grasp.

Unfortunately, the snitch proved too wily for her, too. She soon found herself diving after the snitch, the quidditch pitch beneath her rising up at her more quickly than seemed possible. She wasn't concerned; she had practiced divebombing before she was even old enough to be on a broom. But this time was different. This time, the broom wouldn't turn as if it was cursed to go straight.

She watched with a surrealistic feeling of detachment as the broom continued unerringly on its course to the ground until an idea came to her. Quickly, she pulled her feet up and twisted her grip on the broom so that she could put her feet on top of the broomstick and crouch, poised to jump if necessary. She slowly and carefully pulled her wand from its holster while maintaining her balance.

_One, _she counted in her head.

_Two..._

_Three! _

As the broom came within the last few feet of the pitch, Ginny sprang backwards off of it, casting an _arresto momentum_ on herself as the world turned upside down. She landed smartly on her feet as if she'd jumped off an obstacle a mere foot off the ground. A small object smacked into her chest with a _thunk_ and she caught it in her left hand with pure instinct.

The snitch!

"Ginny!" Harry exclaimed from behind her.

She holstered her wand before turning with a smirk on her face. "Like what you saw, Potter?" she asked lightly as she tossed the snitch to her right hand with a casualness she didn't feel.

"How did you _do_ that?" he responded breathlessly.

Ginny shrugged nonchalantly. "Practice," she grinned, and then tossed the snitch at Harry. "Catch," she added belatedly.

Not looking to see if he did, she planted a bracing foot on the ground and gave the naughty broomstick a healthy tug. It didn't move, but it did elicit an involuntary groan from her as the pectoral muscle the snitch had slammed into complained about being made to work. That was going to bruise.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked. He must have been watching her. He was close, right in front of her, and he reached out his hand to gently touch where the snitch had hit her.

"Yes," she said slowly, feeling hyper aware of where his hand was and wondering if he really meant to touch her there, in such a familiar way. He didn't move his hand as he looked at her with careful concern and she felt warmth grow and spread outward from under his hand. She knew she probably should move, that everyone was probably watching them, but she didn't want to. She looked up into his eyes and the smart response she had at the ready died on her tongue.

"Ginny," he said, making her heart beat faster than when she thought she'd hit the dirt just a minute ago.

She waited expectantly for him to continue, and when he didn't she decided she wasn't going to be a weak little damsel in distress and let him chicken out. She was Ginny fucking Weasley. She pushed herself forward on her tiptoes, reaching one hand out to grasp his upper arm - for stability, of course - and kissed him full on the lips.

She could tell Harry was startled at first, but he quickly wrapped his arm around her back to help lift her and bring her closer against him. His other hand had slid in her first movement so it was comfortably cupping her breast as if it was the most natural thing to do on the quidditch pitch.

She gasped suddenly at the thought, but when she looked around them she realized they were alone, just like she wanted to be. She laughed in delight and threw both her arms around Harry's neck to kiss him again. When he squeezed her breast she moaned a little appreciation and Harry pulled back suddenly.

"Did that hurt?" he asked breathlessly.

"No," she assured him. "No, I quite liked it," she giggled.

Harry gave a little grin in response and all she wanted was to be crushed up against him again. The butterflies in her stomach had moved lower and became an ache between her legs that always came lately when she thought about Harry. Ginny desperately wanted something to press against it but was too shy about it to tell him so. She squeezed her thighs together but that only added to the want.

He bent to kiss her, this time taking the lead and making her completely dizzy. Ginny felt her legs go weak and he slid his arm around her again to hold her up. It was everything she'd ever daydreamed about and she didn't want it to stop. Harry's other hand squeezed her breast again through her practice clothes and then moved lower, spreading a renewed wave of warmth all over her. It crashed against the previous waves like water sloshing in a bucket, setting her want on fire until it built into a need. But though she pressed herself against Harry as much as she could, nothing she did would assuage it.

The more she tried, the more fruitless it all became until she frustrated herself enough...

...to wake up.

Ginny was momentarily disoriented to find herself in her bed in the Burrow, her legs tangled in the covers and her knickers extremely damp. It was morning, she could tell, but the house was still relatively quiet. She snaked a hand slowly down, sliding it between her pants and her skin to feel herself wet and swollen with desire. It felt so amazing with her hand there that she rolled on her stomach and pressed herself into her hand. The pressure both relieved the ache and drove it deeper so that she felt compelled to wiggle herself against her own hand. She pushed her hand down as far as she could so she could slip one finger inside. She imagined it was Harry's finger sliding in and then she felt herself convulse around the finger and it all felt so good that it only took a few more wiggles to make the pressure explode. She lay there, panting as if she'd just run to the quidditch pitch late for practice as she let the warm feelings flow all through her body. She was thinking of Harry still, imagining him laying with her and his hands gently exploring inside her, his green eyes soft and attentive. She thought she might try rubbing herself again when she heard her mother's heavy steps coming up the stairs.

"Ginny!" she called through the door after she knocked sharply. "If you don't get up now we'll miss the train!"

Ginny groaned as she always did when she wasn't ready to get up yet but knew she had something to do. "I'm up!" she called back, hoping her mom didn't decide to come in and find her this way. Surely her mother would know what Ginny had been doing and she felt naughty to have done it, even though she had an inkling it was like something her brothers got up to when they locked themselves in the bath.

She was very relieved when her mother walked away and still wanted to make that feeling happen again. The thought of missing the train, and therefore Harry, was enough to get her out of bed to clean up and get dressed. She fervently hoped this year her dreams would come true.


End file.
